


Harbinger

by Dellessa



Series: Night Cycle Verse [21]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3101921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa





	Harbinger

Silverstreak’s wings fluttered as he read the datapad for a third time. He knew what his creator’s reaction would be. They had refused all of the other proposals. It was frustrating. He was the eldest, and his youngest siblings were already bonded. Index had been courted by Starscream and Skywarp. They had been bonded nearly a vorn, and were expecting their first born. Edit was being courted by Ricochet, and would be bonded soon. He envied them. He supposed he would have to take things into his own servos. 

He rummaged around until he found a datapad, and began to compose a reply to Lord Megatron, accepting the Proposal. He knew that both Bluestreak and Prowl would both be angry with him, but if he didn’t do this he would never have a bonded of his own. 

Or bondeds as the case would be. 

He hoped he would get along with them.

OoOoOoOo

“What is the meaning of this?” Prowl asked as he stared at the messenger. “I did not send a missive to Megatron agreeing to this. I would not. He is my eldest creation. He is my heir. How dare you!” The vampiric lord growled, optics flashing.

“I sent it, papa,” Silverstreak said, stepping forward. A part of him cringed away from his creators anger, but he forged ahead anyway. “It would be a good alliance.” 

“We would have found you a mate in time. You only had to wait. It is far too soon for you to leave the nest.” 

“You never would have let me leave. Don’t lie. Index and Edit are both bonded and you did not let them leave either,” Silverstreak said. “The Seekers have no plans to return to Vos, and Ricochet left his own creator’s home to travel here. I want to see the world. I want to see other places. I don’t want to be stuck here lurking beneath Praxus my entire existence.” 

“So you would be stuck beneath Iacon than?”

“If need be,” Silverstreak said firmly. “I had hoped you would accompany me to meet them.” 

“I don’t want him to go alone,” Bluestreak said, finally speaking up, and cutting through Prowl’s anger like a knife. “I want to meet these mechs he would be bound to.” 

“Thank you, ‘Tor.” 

“You know they are not like you. They are not like you at all. They are not made vampires. They are Born. They are dangerous creatures with no control,” Prowl bit out. 

“Papa, you have not even met them.” 

“I have heard enough about them.” 

Silverstreak sighed, “Had ‘Tor’s spark not been damaged you would have tried to have sparklings. You would not have gone to the Prime and had us raised from the well. I don’t see what the difference is. You have always said you liked and respected Megatron and Orion. You have even said that you like Rodimus. Do you really think they would raise bad mechs? I have seen image captures of all three. They are even beautiful by Praxian standards.” 

“Beauty is not everything,” Prowl said. “It does not matter. You have taken the choice from our hands. To change our minds now would bring war on our house.” 

“I know it is not Papa. I know. Perhaps I will learn to love them as you love ‘Tor.” 

Prowl sighed, “I hope so, sparkling. I truly hope so.”

OoOoOoOo

The trip to Iacon was a long one, and Silverstreak did not like being cooped up in the little windowless room inside the transport. There was too much silence. Neither of his creators seemed inclined to talk. Instead the recharged most of the trip, curled together. He could tell they were still mad. They both radiated anger and disappointment. It made things uncomfortable for Silverstreak. He had always wanted to please his creators, but he wanted his freedom as well. They had spoiled him. Given him anything he had ever wanted...save his freedom. His siblings had been allowed leeway. They had been allowed to make their own choices.

He had not. He was turned before he fully understood the meaning of it. He understood that his creators thought they were doing what was best for him. They thought they were protecting him and keeping him safe. 

He just felt trapped.

He ended up curling up in the other berth, and wrapping the mesh tight around him. He wondered what the triplets would be like. He hoped they would be nice, that he would have a chance at love...or at least care. He would settle for that if need be. He had always wanted what his creators had. It was clear that they cared for each other deeply. 

Everyone around him seemed to have what he craved, love. 

The transport lurched to a stop, and after a few kliks the door to the cabin opened, “We have arrived,” Roller said. Silverstreak was only faintly familiar with the mech, or any of the others that were accompanying them to Iacon. 

“Thank you,” Silverstreak whispered. He checked his finish before moving over to see if he could wake his creators. Prowl was slow to stir. Silverstreak knew that he always was unless he felt there was danger. “Papa, it’s time to wake up. We are here. ‘Tor, wake up.” 

Bluestreak stirred first, stretching lithely. “Are you sure you want to do this, bitty? We can turn around? Perhaps that would be a good idea. Let’s go back home.” 

Silverstreak froze, “No, creator. I want to meet them.” 

Prowl growled, but did not comment as he shrugged off the meshes and checked his own finish as well as Bluestreak’s. “Let us get this fiasco over with. The sooner you find that you will not suit them the sooner we can go home.” 

Silverstreak stiffened. He didn’t even know what to say to that. “We might suit, papa. You don’t know.” Silverstreak shook his helm and moved towards the door, not waiting to see if they were following. He was infinitely disappointed in both of them. “They might love me. You never know.” 

Silverstreak didn’t wait for an answer, he dashed out the door and stop short in shock. They were there waiting, looking hopeful. 

Silverstreak studied the three mechs that stood before him. He had seen image captures of them, but it did not quite to them justice. Wing was the tallest. His white plating glinted in the dim light. He smiled as he stopped forward, “Silverstreak. It is good to meet you at last.” He pulled out a long box from his subspace and opened it, revealing a necklace with a large crystal at the end. “It is a bonding crystal, to declare our intentions. It is a tradition in Iacon to present it to the one you intend to court. Will you accept this humble gift?” 

Silverstreak’s doorwings fluttered in surprise. He had not been expecting this. “I will.” 

“Good!” The other white coloured mech said, flashing Silverstreak a grin. “We were hoping you would. I’ve also brought you something I hope you will enjoy.” He presented a little box full of treats. “They are made with processed energon. They are my creators own recipe.”

“Oh,” Silverstreak took one, and moaned as it melted on his glossa leaving him feeling energized. “Thank you.” 

The third mech, Deadlock, grunted. “This is for you as well.” He presented a small cage with a tiny crystal bird inside. The bird sang, trilling softly. “It’s a lillith. They are as rare as Unicron’s tears, so I hope you like it. It was a pain in the aft to catch.” 

Silverstreak giggled, “Thank you. It is beautiful. It’s very sweet of you.” 

Deadlock shuffled, shrugging his pointy shoulders, “Yeah. Sure. You’re welcome.” 

Drift shoved against his brother. Don’t mind him. He’s...just himself.” 

Deadlock growled, but said nothing in protest, he just held up the cage, waiting for Silverstreak to take it. 

“Thank you you, they are all such lovely gifts,” He said, as he took the small cage from Deadlock. 

“What are you doing, bitlet?” Prowl growled behind him. “This is not appropriate. What are they doing here?” 

“They came to greet me,” Silverstreak said, unable to contain his excitement. He was not going to let his papa spoil //this// for him. He would not allow it. He hagged the cage with the lilleth to his chestplates. “I think we should be going now to the palace to greet Lord Megatron and his consorts.” 

“He is right, darling,” Bluestreak said in that tone that always made Prowl crumple to his will. “They will be waiting for us.” He smiled at the three mechs, “It is so nice to meet you at last. how is your carrier doing?” 

“He is well, Lord Bluestreak,” Wing said. “Very well. He is expecting again, actually.” 

“How very lucky for him,” Bluestreak said, losing some of his cheer. Silverstreak knew it still pained him that he would never be able to carry on his own. 

“We should go. Aren’t they expecting us?” Silverstreak asked. 

“They are,” Drift agreed. “They are eager to finally meet you.” 

Silverstreak gave a demure little nod, “I am honored.” 

“No, we are,” Wing trilled. “You can’t imagine how excited we were to receive your reply.” 

“I think I can,” Silverstreak smiled. “Truly.”

OoOoOoOo

The triplets led them through part of Iacon, and down into the city below. It was smaller than the Citadel, and not as well appointed, but Silverstreak still found the carved and dimly lit tunnels interesting. They passed few mechs. Far less lived here than in the Citadel.

Megatron greeted them when they reached the grand hall. “Prowl, it has been an age.” 

“Indeed it has. Unfortunately I fear we have made this journey for not. I was not aware that you had sent a missive to us. My creation took it upon himself to answer you in my stead. We were not seeking a mate for him. Not yet. I hope you can understand,” Prowl said. 

“I do not,” Megatron rumbled. “Are you trying to start a war between our clans, Prowl?” 

Prowl’s wings arched up aggressively, “I am not. You must understand, he is my heir.” 

“The offer was made, Prowl. I have no reason to believe that it was not accepted by you. I refuse to believe otherwise. You will not dash my sparkling’s hope at a good match.” 

“It will be,” Silverstreak blurted out. “I will be a good mate for them.” 

“I am sure you will be,” Megatron said with a pleased smile. “Come then, Orion and Rodimus are waiting on us.”

Megatron lead them into the families suite, and ignored Prowl’s grumbling and growling as he walked behind.

OoOoOoOo

“It is so good to see you, Prowl, Bluestreak. I have not seen either of you in an age,” Orion said. He smiled widely, fang dimpling the soft metalmesh of his lips.

Silverstreak could not help but stare. He had only seen carrying mechs a handful of times in his lifetime. He could tell it disturbed his creator, and when Rodimus walked in in much the same condition Bluestreak visibly flinched. 

“It is good to see you as well,” Bluestreak finally managed when he could talk. “You both look radiant. When are you due?” 

Rodimus snorted, “In far too long for my taste. If I’d realized how miserable this would be I never would have agreed.” 

“Rodimus,” Orion chided, “that was insensitive.”  
Rodimus pouted for a moment, “I am sorry. I did not mean it like that. I’m glad to be carrying. I will be glad for us to have another sparkling. I can’t wait for little Hot Rod to extracted. He’s already a chatty little thing.”

“We are blessed,” Megatron rumbled. “We have already been so. I know it is not usually the way of our kind.” 

“You must be doing something right then,” Prowl grumbled. 

“You have three beautiful sparks as well, do you not?” Orion asked. 

“We have petitioned the Prime for a fourth, hopefully there will be a new little one in our life soon,” Bluestreak said quietly. 

“I am sure he will agree,” Orion smiled, “You have done such a wonderful job with Silverstreak. Such a polite youngling.” 

“Thank you,” Silverstreak said, doorwings fluttering with pleasure. He hugger the caged with the lilleth inside to his chestplates. “Ah, do you have someplace I can put this? I don’t want it to get hurt.” 

“Deadlock, show them to their rooms, please,” Orion said. 

The black plated mech huffed for a moment, but quieted with a look from his brothers, “Right come on then. Dinner is in a half joor and sire doesn’t tolerate anyone being lat, guest or no. You’ll probably want to use the washwracks I guess.” 

“We would,” Bluestreak agreed readily. 

They followed Deadlock through the maze of tunnels. Prowl looked less than impressed, but that was his modus operandi as far as Silverstreak was concerned. “Well this is the suite that was prepared for you. Yeah. Hope ya like them. Creator worked hard on getting things ready. He’s really particular.” 

“This will do,” Prowl said, looking around. “Come on, sparkling,” he said motioning to Silverstreak.

“Oh, no....he has a suite of his own, your uh---highness.” 

Prowl glared at Deadlock, “That is unacceptable.” 

“My creators have insisted. It is tradition,” Deadlock said, not bending under the glare that Prowl leveled at him. “It is part of the courtship, sir.” 

“You can court him just fine from here.” 

“I’m pretty sure we can’t,” Deadlock snorted, “I’m not stupid, sir. I can tell you don’t want any of us near him, but he had agreed, and despite what you think we will treat him well.” 

“He’s right, papa,” Silverstreak said quietly and took the hand that Deadlock offered. “I’m sorry. I know you are disappointed in me, but I want to give this a try.” He didn’t look back as Deadlock lead him away.

OoOoOoOo

The set of rooms that Deadlock took him to was on the other side of the compound from where his creators were staying, and much closer to the families room. He knew Prowl would flip a table if he found out, and possibly two more if he knew he was alone with Deadlock.

“What do you think?” Deadlock asked. His red optics lingered on Silverstreak. 

“I’m not sure what to think yet, honestly. This is very different than me home,” Silverstreak said. “Very different. And my creators are not happy for me. I had hoped that they might try.” 

“Maybe you should give them time,” Deadlock said, sidling closer. “It is a lot of change to take in at once.” He reached out, touching the space between Silverstreak’s doorwings, making the Praxian gasp. 

“No! You can’t touch me there. Not...not now! It’s inappropriate!” 

Deadlock jerked his hand away as if he had been burned. “I didn’t know.” 

“D-don’t do that. Don’t touch my wings. They are very sensitive...and...and I just don’t know you well enough yet,” Silverstreak blurted out, and tucked his wings close against his back in a protective gesture. “They are delicate.” 

“I’m sorry. They are just...beautiful.” 

Silverstreak ducked his helm, “Thank you.” 

“Would you like to come with me? My brothers are eager to talk to you. We want to get to know you. We---uh---really want this to work,” Deadlock said, shifting from ped to ped. 

“I want to get to know you too. Very much,” Silverstreak offered his hand and smiled when Deadlock took it. 

The other mech’s hand was cool in his own. He had not fed in a while, Silverstreak could tell. There was a hunger laced in his field. The feel of it made Silverstreak shiver. 

“Good,” Deadlock purred. “My brothers are waiting for us.”

OoOoOoOo

“Silverstreak,” Wing greeted him as he came into the room. The flier smiled, and beckoned him inside. “How are you finding out home?” His golden optics twinkled in amusement, and Silverstreak relaxed. Wing was welcoming.

Deadlock put a hand on the small of his back and lead him further into the room. Silverstreak leaned into the touch, and considered his answer. “It is...interesting.” 

“We were hoping that it would be,” Deadlock smirked behind him. 

Drift moved closer, and took Silverstreak’s hand, he brought it up to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “We waited so long for you.” 

Silverstreak trembled, “And I’ve waited so long for you. I can’t wait to start our lives together.” 

“We will soon enough,” Drift said. 

“My creators are not happy with this at all,” Silverstreak said, fidgeting. His doorwings flitched with agitation. 

“They may not, but here you are, and we will be bonded,” Wing said. “If you still want to bond with us.” 

“Of course I do.”

“Good,” Deadlock said, and pulled him close, kissing him with far more care than Silverstreak would have imagined him being capable of. “We want you too.” 

Silverstreak smile into the kiss and clung to the mech, shivering as Deadlock’s brother’s moved close and then they were on him, a caress against his doorwings, Drifts’s hot mouth against his own. Hands touching every spot and speck of his plating until he was venting hard, and feeling so warm. Hot in places he didn’t remember feeling before. His plating flared, inviting touches between his seams, against protoform and wires. It was glorious. New systems came online. Deadlock fell to his knees, pulling him close. His glossa flicked against Silverstreak’s panel, compelling it to open. Silverstreak fumbled with the code to open it manually, but the panel had ideas of it’s own and snapped open of it’s own accord, leaving him bare. 

Deadlock smirked and looked up as he flicked his glossa against the anterior node. He worried at it until Silverstreak’s knees buckled. The other two brother’s caught him, and they carried him to the berth, spreading him out before them. Silverstreak whimpered, and squirmed. No word came to his lips, he could only gasp as Deadlock continued what he started. His systems heated up, leaving him gasping. He clung to them and was lost in the sensation, overwhelmed by it. Changed. 

He didn’t want to wait for his bonding, and to his delight he found the triplets felt much the same. Their sparks sang together as they joined, and he was content that he would never be alone again.

OoOoOoOo

The triplets stood between Silverstreak and his creators, a low rumble coming from all of their vocalizers. “You can’t have him! You can’t take him from us! He’s ours,” Deadlock growled. He took a step towards Prowl, his armor puffing out making him look bigger. “I don’t care if you refuse to sign the treaty. You won’t take him from us. You CAN’T take him from us.”

“He’s ours now,” Wing and Drift echoed, and both moved closer to Silverstreak. 

“No, he is not. He is my creation,” Prowl said. “I won’t abide with this bullying. Not from you, and not from your creators.” 

“Papa, please calm down. Please. It’s my choice. I want this. I’ve told you I want this. Please stop fighting. I hate it. I hate it so much when you act like this,” Silverstreak pleaded. 

Prowl stiffened, “Silverstreak. Please come home with us. We will find a good mech for you. Someone appropriate.” 

“You mean someone biddable. You want to control me. You’ve always wanted to control me, but it’s not going to happen. I’m not going to go back with you. This is my home now. You might as well try again. Get another sparkling, maybe it will work out for you better this time. Maybe you won’t get someone that is sweet and easy to control. That is what you want, isn’t it?” 

Prowl froze, “No. That is never what I’ve wanted. Your creator and I love you. We just want you to be happy. We want you to be safe.” 

“Then stop fighting me. Let me have this.” 

Prowl met his gaze, and finally nodded with finality. “I wish you well then.” 

Silverstreak moved close, wrapping his arms around his creator and held him tightly, “I love you too.”


End file.
